


The Dead Walking

by space0bongo



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Walking Dead - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Angst, Bucky isn't really dead, Crossover, F/M, Fury isn't dead either, Gen, M/M, Multi, Peggy Carter Lives, Pining, The Avengers would find a way to survive, The One Where Steve is Rick Grimes Lori Grimes and Shane Walsh and Bucky is/was his everything, The Walking Dead Crossover, well most of them :)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-08
Updated: 2014-10-12
Packaged: 2018-02-20 09:26:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2423651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/space0bongo/pseuds/space0bongo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Steve woke up after a year-long coma and found himself in a world out of a horror movie, his first thought (his only thought for a long time as he fought his way through Walkers; he thought it often enough for it to be a prayer) was gratitude that Bucky didn’t live to see it happen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> Set in The Walking Dead universe, but not using Walking Dead characters. This is a collection of instances set in a single world rather than a story. I really hope you enjoy it. Just to add: Peter's identity is a surprise.

When Steve woke up after a year-long coma and found himself in a world out of a horror movie, his first thought (his only thought for a long time as he fought his way through Walkers; he thought it often enough for it to be a prayer) was gratitude that Bucky didn’t live to see it happen. Bucky wasn’t like Steve; he was gentler, fragile in a way often belied by his sturdy body and stern demeanour.  Had Bucky lived he’d have slowly died fight by fight, one mercy killing at a time, until there was nothing left of him to love. 

“You believe in God, Cap?” Stark asks as he cleans his rifle. Stark used to be a billionaire engineer but out of their rag tag group he’s the one who has fit into this new world the best. 

“I thank him every day,” Steve squints into the sun as he watches Pete and a couple of the youngest kids play tag in the scraggly football pitch of the school where they’re currently holed up. Loki watches over them from a bench, his sword across his lap, and Clint watches over Loki from near the top of a tall pine tree his crossbow locked and loaded and ready to fire if the Swede makes even a single misstep.  It’s as close to peace as any of them have gotten in the year they’ve been together.  There’s even talk from some of the folk of farming crops.

“That’s not an answer,” Tony replies and Steve shrugs. It’s the only answer Steve’s prepared to give.  Next to them Becky stares balefully up at Tony through her long tumble of brown hair.  She has Bucky’s eyes and can use them to terrifying effect despite being all of nine years old.  “No need for the scary eyes kid.  I’m just making an observation.”

“Well make it with your mouth shut,” She all but growls and looks about to use the dagger in her hand when Steve gentles her with a kiss to the top of her head. “He’s always back-chatting about you Daddy.  I don’t like it.”

“I can handle it,” Steve tells her gently but firmly. “Why don’t you go and play with Pete and the other kids?”

“I’m not a kid,” She grouses but does as she’s told anyway. She’s something else to be grateful for, Steve thinks (prays).  During the first few weeks after waking from his coma he’d honestly believed he would never see her again.

“She know we’re fucking?” Tony asks lightly as if he’s talking about the weather. Tony already knows the answer to that question.  He’s trying to bait Steve for whatever reason, cause an argument; Steve doesn’t give him the satisfaction.

“None of her business,” Steve doesn’t look away from the kids.

-/-


	2. Chapter 2

<p>Steve viewed himself as an artist <em>before</em>.  He never was the type for exhibitions but he was handy and had eclectic tastes that were broad enough that he could do a wide variety of work.  People paid him for murals and sculptures, the occasional pieces of custom made furniture or jewellery; he was good at it too. </p>

<p>Bucky had been one of his first customers; he’d wanted a crib for his unborn daughter and despite the fact that Steve usually had better taste than a married man (with a pregnant wife) they hit it off straight away. Bucky eventually left them for Steve and everybody, including Steve’s parents, blamed Steve for that (and Sharon’s eventual suicide months later) but he hadn’t regretted a minute of it.  Bucky was…no.  Bucky <em>is</em> the love of his life.</p>

<p>“Daddy!” Pete’s voice shatters through Steve’s thoughts like a gunshot and he looks up from the pieces of his gun to see his son staring up at him with sleepy blue eyes, his toddler legs unsteady under him, with a picture clutched in a chubby fist.</p>

<p>Steve had found Pete during his first week after the coma crawling around a park and surrounded by Walkers. He couldn’t resist taking him in, even if Pete was young enough back then to be a liability (he still is in a way but at least he can run now), not when he was the spitting image of Bucky, but he does regret telling people about it.  He should’ve kept his counsel, should’ve let everyone believe Pete was really his like he did with Becky.</p>

<p>“What do you have there sweetheart?” Steve pulls the paper from Pete’s sticky hands and smiles at the mess of pink and red on the page. “That looks just swell.  What is it?”</p>

<p>“You,” Becky pipes up disapprovingly from the floor as she works on her own drawing. “I told him he’s too young for crayons, Daddy.  It’s a waste of resources.”</p>

<p>“Some would say all art is a waste of resources,” Steve grins as he ruffles Pete’s hair and kisses his plump cheek. “That’s the point.  It’s supposed to be fun.”</p>

<p>Becky huffs her disapproval and works on her near perfect likeness of Steve. It’s in grey pencil because they haven’t found coloured pencils on a supply run yet and for all her bluster about Pete, Becky refuses to use crayons because she thinks they’re for kids.</p>

<p>“Natasha said it’s too risky to go on runs for anything other than food and water,” She says quietly when Steve pulls Pete up onto his lap. “She said looking for crayons is what got Nick killed.”</p>

<p>“We don’t actually know that happened to Fury,” Steve says as Pete snuggles into his shoulder for his afternoon nap. He sighs.  “Natasha does have a point.  We shouldn’t go on runs for anything other than food and water,” Becky’s face falls, “but if we happen to <em>find</em> pencils or crayons or paints just lying around somewhere while we’re looking for food then that’s okay.”</p>

<p>“It is?” Becky asks hopefully. “But Natasha said…”</p>

<p>“Natasha isn’t an artist, sweetie.” Steve forces a smile even though he feels a bit broken inside. “She doesn’t understand.  A hundred years from now our art might be all that’s left to prove we survived.  We owe it to <em>humanity</em> to make sure we don’t stop making it.  Do you understand?”</p>

<p>“Yes, daddy,” Becky says with a beaming smile he hasn’t seen since before his coma. “Art is <em>important</em>.”</p>

<p>“And next time Natasha says something like that to you or the other kids,” Steve gulps down the righteous indignation he can feel roil up in his belly, “You tell me, okay? She shouldn’t be telling you stuff like that. Not yet.”</p>

<p>“Aye, aye Cap,” Becky grins slyly and Steve rolls his eyes.</p>

<p>“Don’t call me that.” Steve grumbles fondly as he stands up to put Pete into the crib he’d made for him a few weeks ago.</p>

<p>-/-</p>


End file.
